


The Parthenon’s Pillar

by Lokne



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Echizen Ryouma, Genderswap, Major Character Injury, Protectiveness, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokne/pseuds/Lokne
Summary: Ryoma stood beside the Seigaku regulars and wondered if she had made the correct choice. She huddled deeper into Kunimitsu’s jacket and tried to feel positive about the match—but the normal rush of excitement and anticipation didn’t surface. All she could feel was nervousness and cold dread settling in her stomach. Her fingers gripped the railing even though the chilly metal bit into her hands and stole what little body heat remained.
Relationships: Tezuka Kunimitsu/Female Echizen Ryoma
Kudos: 13





	The Parthenon’s Pillar

**Author's Note:**

> A repost of an old fic of mine.

Ryoma stood beside the Seigaku regulars and wondered if she had made the correct choice. She huddled deeper into Kunimitsu’s jacket and tried to feel positive about the match—but the normal rush of excitement and anticipation didn’t surface. All she could feel was nervousness and cold dread settling in her stomach. Her fingers gripped the railing even though the chilly metal bit into her hands and stole what little body heat remained.

She wished that she could look away—wished that she was strong enough to glance away from the court, but her mind screamed whenever she had enough courage to turn away. Ryoma’s heart somersaulted in her stomach. Ryoma nibbled on her lips to hold back the scream that remained lodged in her throat. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at Kunimitsu’s legs; they were red and trembling. They could barely hold him up and she knew it wouldn’t be very long until he collapsed, unable to finish the match entirely.

When Kunimitsu asked her to become his pillar of support at the beginning of the school year, she never thought that agreeing would cause her so much agony. They started out as friends that drove each other to new heights and to overcome past obstacles that other people put in their way—her father, his duty and love for his team. And for a short few months it worked. Ryoma learned to develop a tennis style that was free from her father’s influence, and Kunimitsu learned that giving everything he had to his team wasn’t the only way to win. 

Then came the Kanto Tournament and Kunimitsu fought against Atobe. It had been the hardest thing she ever had to watch. Every time Kunimitsu returned the ball, she could see the pain that he desperately tried to hide from his teammates and opponent. He almost completely destroyed his shoulder because he had made a promise. Kunimitsu would take them to the National Tournament.

Ryoma wiped away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. They were here. Kunimitsu kept his promise, but to him it still wasn’t good enough. Because he had to give and give and give until he was broken. She flinched when Kikumaru hollered at Kunimitsu to win. Why didn’t they understand that he was literally giving them everything that he had? His arm was healed, true, but his legs would be too damaged for him to play again. He was giving up his future of playing Professional Tennis so his team could win the Nationals.

Kunimitsu was dripping sweat and his shirt was already completely soaked. If he didn’t get a break soon then he would fall over from exhaustion and dehydration. His golden brown hair was plastered to head, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. She winced when the ball continued to stay out of the white boundary line and the referee called ‘out’. 

“It’s my fault.” 

After practice a few weeks ago she had mentioned the possibility of Kunimitsu reversing the polarity of his zone. If he could force balls to return to him, then it would make sense for him to force them away as well. However, if she had known the toll that it would take on his health, Ryoma never would have mentioned it. She loved tennis, but not more than she loved Kunimitsu. She wanted him to win the Nationals, but not at the cost of his future career.

“Isn’t Captain Tezuka amazing, Echizen?” Momoshiro asked, with a wide grin on his face. “He’s holding off Sanada!”

Ryoma resisted the urge to smack him. Was he blind? She hated Seigaku! She hated the other regulars that leaned on Kunimitsu and never gave back. They whined, fought, complained about extra training, and acted like little kids during practice. Kunimitsu breathed tennis. He thought about ways to improve his stamina and routine, and still have time for studying and homework. He worked tirelessly to create monthly Inter-high ranking matches to decide who should become a regular. He was class president and helped out after school in his family’s store. 

Kunimitsu told her that when he was a freshman, Captain Yamato asked him to be Seigaku’s pillar of support. For three years he was left fumbling under the weight of his responsibility and hoping that he would be able to live up to the expectations of others. There was a reason why he never asked Ryoma to become Seigaku’s pillar of support. She would have been smashed by the hopes and dreams that weren’t her own. He loved her too much to put that much weight upon her shoulders. 

But there were times when she wondered if it would have been easier. She had to watch Kunimitsu from the sidelines as he played each match and no matter how much she mentally tried to support him, it made little difference. Each time he returned victorious was the best feeling in the world. Each time he lost and was injured pierced her heart. Kunimitsu was everything to her, and he was destroying himself for the dreams and ambitions of others.

Ryoma vaulted over the railing and ran toward the bench where Coach Ryuzaki sat. She longed to run out onto the court and help him to the bench, but it would only humiliate him. She refused to allow that to happen. Without a word she reached for the cool down spray and drenched his legs in the fine mist. His muscles throbbed and jerked under her ministrations.    
  


“This isn’t helping. He needs ice,” Ryoma said, looking at their coach. The old woman wasn’t stupid. She knew that if Kunimitsu didn’t put ice on his legs for at least five minutes then he wouldn’t be able to play at all. Ryoma sighed when both coaches approached the referee for a ten minute break before the second half began.

Ryoma gently pulled him to his feet and directed him toward the locker room. It would be easier to have his legs propped up and iced there instead of making multiple trips. The pace was slow and it took almost three minutes to find a good spot to rest. She propped him up on a padded bench that wasn’t facing a clock. Ryoma didn’t want him worrying about what time he needed to leave. She grabbed ice packs from the freezer and wrapped them in towels before placing them on his legs. They jolted at the contact. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you,” Ryoma said. Her chest felt hollow when he smiled at her. How could he be so happy when he could barely walk? Had she ever loved tennis that much? 

She remembered playing injured once in middle school. Her racquet broke and cut her eyelid. She finished the match in under ten minutes. But that was different! Maybe it was hypocritical of her, but it wasn’t the same. She knew her injury wasn’t that bad. Kunimitsu’s injury would be devastating if he continued the match.

“It’s okay, Ryoma.”

She sniffled and cursed. She hated crying, especially in front of him. She was supposed to be his pillar. Why couldn’t she support him enough? He was always comforting her! Some girlfriend she was. “Your legs.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I know.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her closer. “Thank you.”

Ryoma shook her head. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t! How could he— She kissed him and let her lips talk for her. Her fingers tangled in his hair and her nose bumped his glasses askew but it was perfect. She told him about the love she had for him. He was kind and amazing and  _ all _ hers. She wished that she could do something more, that she could take his pain away. Ryoma poured her fear, admiration, and concern into the kiss as if it would be their last. 

Ryoma pulled away when he shifted and groaned in pain. The ice wasn’t working as well as it should have. He might have torn a ligament or tendon. “I’ll get fresh ice packs.” She grabbed the two that weren’t as cold, but then his hand enclosed around her wrist.

“How much longer do I have?”

Ryoma walked around the lockers and stared at the clock. Two minutes. If Kunimitsu wasn’t back out on the court in two minutes, he would forfeit the game and Rikkai Dai would win the Nationals for the fourth year in a row. The ice packs dripped water on the cement as she debated what to do. 

“Ryoma?” Kunimitsu asked, sounding exhausted.

He was still injured and the thought of him going back out there tore her to pieces. She exchanged the ice packs and walked back over to where he was laying. He hadn’t moved, and she could tell that he wouldn’t until she told him the time. He was saving as much energy as he could. She placed new ice packs on his legs and smiled. 

“We have time.” 

Her hands shook as the lie passed her lips. The regulars would be angry when they found out about her deception and Rikkai Dai wouldn’t understand her reasoning. She didn’t care. Even if Kunimitsu hated her because she took away everything that he had worked for, for the last three years. She was Kunimitsu’s pillar of support and she refused to see him crumble.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr if you’re interested.


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